The F Word
by legallyblained
Summary: Blaine sneakily taking a picture of his two favourite boys when they're asleep.


Something feels off. Blaine keeps blinking as he tries to figure it out, what feels different, why the room seems a little strange, and just as he lifts his head up, he realises.

This is the first time in weeks he hasn't been woken up by screaming.

For half a second it makes him panic - if Alex isn't crying, something must be wrong - but he glances at the clock and sees that it's only 2:45. The baby won't wake up until 3. This is just the first time Blaine's beaten him to it.

Normally he would force himself back to sleep, try to soak up every minute of silence he can, but it's Sunday. He's got all day to sleep, but only a few more minutes of his two favourite boys snoring and drooling and looking painfully beautiful.

He leans over to kiss Kurt on the cheek, and Kurt instinctively tries to follow the warmth hovering over him, but ends up nuzzling into his pillow, smacking his lips and letting his mouth hang open again, a crease on his cheek and a bundle of bedding squeezed in his arms as a Blaine substitute. Blaine grins at him, before silently standing up and padding to the foot of the bed where the crib is.

He's still not used to the way his heart swells with warmth when he sees the baby. Just hearing those soft breaths and seeing his tiny fingers clench around nothing makes Blaine want to melt, want to burst into a thousand fragments of pure love. Every time he's tried to have a conversation with anyone in the last few weeks, he's ended up clumsily turning it into another 'babies wow look at this picture of my baby my husband and i have a baby and he's so perfect' talk, and he knows it's annoying but he doesn't care. Even when he's been woken up at 3am every morning for weeks, he hasn't stopped smiling once.

He scoops the baby out carefully, determined not to let him wake up any earlier than necessary. He's just had an idea.

"Morning, baby," he whispers, cradling Alex close as he gets his camera, "now please, pretty please, just give me a couple more minutes. Just do this one thing for your daddies, okay buddy?"

He drops the camera when he tries to shift the baby onto his other arm and winces, praying that he hasn't woken anyone up. He warily opens one eye, looking at Kurt and the baby in turn. Both still asleep. "Phew," he breathes out. "Okay, let me just-" He lies Alex down next to Kurt, nestled in his own chunk of the duvet. He picks up the camera for a moment, switching it on and aiming it at the bed, framing the two figures, their matching open mouths, matching cheeks smushed into white linen, but he's interrupted by small footsteps in the doorway.

He looks up to see a ball of fuzz trotting towards him, still dozy, but happy as always to see Blaine.

"Okay, you can be in it too," Blaine whispers, picking Pepper up in one hand and laying him gently on Kurt's hip. Kurt stirs, but only for a second. He's trained himself to sleep through anything but crying. Blaine smiles with relief. The dog is thoughtful enough to keep fairly still, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he drifts off again. Blaine has to bite his lip to stop himself from giggling at the sight of his family, small and sleepy and perfect (if a little hairy and drooly). He picks up the camera again, slipping a hand under Alex's head, both to support it and to make him match Kurt even more, and clicks.

The click wakes Alex.

The crying wakes Kurt.

"I've got it, s'okay, m'up," he mutters as he heaves himself up without opening his eyes. Blaine lets him walk toward the crib and reach into it before realising it's empty. "Alex? Blaine, where did you put the baby?" he mumbles, eyes still half-closed. He looks over to where Blaine's kneeling by the bed, picking Alex up to shush him. He spots the camera left on the bed and frowns. "Blaine. Camera. Dog on the bed. What."

The dog supposedly wasn't allowed in the bedroom - a rule that was almost always ignored.

"Um. I definitely wasn't taking a picture of the three of you. Would that be creepy?"

Kurt sticks his hand out, almost squashing the dog as he flops back onto the bed on his stomach.

"Depends on the picture. Gimme."

Blaine sheepishly hands it over, clutching the baby closer so Kurt can't get angry with him.

"I just- I thought you looked cute-"

Kurt's eyes narrow as he stares at the tiny screen, his eyes struggling to focus in the dim light of the early morning.

"Is that- am I drooling? Blaine!"

Kurt wipes his jaw with his wrist, and Blaine shushes him quickly.

"No, you can't yell- the baby-"

"The baby's already awake, Blaine."

"I just wanted a picture of my family."

Kurt inhales to argue, but he breathes it out again, an attempt at a glare on his face. They were both susceptible to the 'F' word.

"Cheap shot, Anderson."

"Anderson-Hummel. Family. You know, he looks just like you there."

Kurt can't help smiling at that, and Blaine beams back, knowing he's won this one.

"Fine. I won't delete it. But nobody else sees this, okay? And… you have to make me breakfast."

"Okay. Blueberry pancakes?"

"I will accept nothing less. Now hand him over." Blaine grins, easing the baby into Kurt's arms and kissing both of them on the cheek. "Oh, honey, isn't Daddy creepy?"

A couple of weeks later, on Kurt's day with Alex, he drops by Blaine's school to pick him up. A couple of the kids say 'hello, Mr Kurt' on their way out and he grins at them, making Alex wave hello, and they giggle.

"Hey sweetie," Blaine says, tidying away the last of the art supplies from the afternoon then going to kiss Kurt quickly. "How are my boys this afternoon?"

"We're good; we went to see Grandpa Burt today, didn't we honey?"

Alex doesn't respond, simply letting his head flop from one side to the other as he gets passed from one father to the other. Blaine presses a kiss to the light hair dusting his head.

"Lucky Burt," Blaine whispers, "I missed you both so much." He starts mumbling incoherent baby talk and blowing a raspberry on Alex's cheek. Kurt starts looking at Blaine's desk, and Blaine tries to take his hand. "Hey, let's go home. I'm exhausted."

"Blaine-"

"I'll make dinner tonight, yeah? You wanna the pizza Mister Kurt?" He puts on a terrible Italian accent to try and distract him, but it doesn't work.

"What is this picture doing here?"

"Um… What picture?"

"Oh, Blaine, you are so busted!" He says playfully, pinching Blaine's arm, but he keeps staring at the picture. His smile is soft and Blaine could swear his eyes are watering.

"Kurt? Are you okay? If it bothers you that much, I'll-"

"No, no, I-" He takes a deep breath and clears his throat, "It's okay. Just-" He can't quite say it right - how he still can't believe it. That of all the photos on Blaine's desk, this is at the front: him looking so gross and stubbly and messy, drooling, just him and their baby and their stupid fluffball of a dog in a heap on their bed - he can't stop smiling.

This is how much Blaine loves him. This is how perfect their family is, so comfortable and intimate and safe. He just can't find it in himself to be embarrassed or annoyed. He just feels completely content. He'd be happy for the whole world to see this, never mind a class of five-year-olds. "Let's go home, Blaine." Blaine smiles and takes Kurt's hand, kissing him again more slowly before they leave.

It doesn't matter anyway. Kurt's got a photo of Blaine and Alex asleep on the couch at his office. At least in Blaine's photo, Kurt isn't topless.


End file.
